


call it silly, label it ours

by vagarius



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthdays, Domestic, Friendship, Future, Gen, Growing Up, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Silly moments, Slice of Life, Vignettes, less "coming of age" and more "through the ages", videos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagarius/pseuds/vagarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Kageyama lets out a laugh of his own. "I think," he says, to no one in particular, "This is why I insist on recording everything."</em>
</p><p>or: a series of videos taken on kageyama's camera</p><p>or: ridiculous labels</p><p>or: "It made sense in my head."</p>
            </blockquote>





	call it silly, label it ours

**Author's Note:**

> (this was definitely a challenge, alright.)
> 
> first of all, OH MY GOD, its finished somehow?? anyway.
> 
> super very big thanks to asher for betaing, because i _definitely_ would not have finished without you. or had finished 11:59 on the wednesday. and also forgotten multiple question marks and prepositions. this is my very loud and big thanks to you !!! another big thanks for taime, for drawing [wonderful fanart](http://butaime.tumblr.com/post/149771040829/my-illustration-for-vagarius-fic-in-the-haikyuu) and dealing with my procrastination in actually _starting._. i can't thank either or you enough but i'm gonna try just watch me
> 
> to the readers, hope you enjoy reading!

**tobio's eighth birthday**

_"To-bi-o. Look this way!"_

"Mom, you don't have to record me all the time. We live together. You see me every day."

_"But it's your birthday, Tobio! You're turning eight; that's never going to happen again, I have to record it!"_

Kageyama pouts and continues to fiddle with his birthday hat. The bottom half is practically in tatters, the shiny cardboard curled and torn apart, showing the dull brown underneath. The elastic is frayed at the ends. "But mom," he counters, looking up from the sad excuse for a hat, "I don't _want_ it to happen again."

_"Tobio..."_

"You said," he continues, "That I should invite my friends to celebrate, but I didn't give them the invitations, because I only need you!" His shoulders scrunch up, as if he's trying to sink into them. It makes Kageyama seem smaller, and the room seem bigger, the table lined with cheap party hats and empty chairs. There are paper streamers taped to the wall, and a tacky, worn out banner spelling out _Happy Birthday_ in sparkly katakana, littered with sparkle-less patches. Kageyama puts down his party hat and twists his fingers in his shirt instead. "And now you got all this stuff, even though no one's here. Why keep something like that?"

His mom sighs. _"How about you open your present now?"_

Kageyama pouts again, but obediently walks across the room to where the presents were supposed to be kept. There's a single one on the low table, a shoebox neatly tied closed by a blue cloth ribbon. Kageyama doesn't bother with the knot; he simply slips the ribbon off, opens the box, and freezes. The air itself seems to still, if only for a moment, then Kageyama's eyes are widening comically, head whipping up with soundless force, a question in the way his body practically vibrates and his lips wobble.

"Is this really..." he trails off, voice soft with disbelief yet high with hope.

 _"It's really yours,"_ his mom answers, voice just as soft.

"And," Kageyama continues, suddenly looking frantic, "And it's new? It's really new?"

A breath. _"It is."_

"Wow." Kageyama gingerly takes a video camera out of the box, turning it in his hands like glass. His face lights up the empty room, even as some of his amazement melts into confusion. "How do you turn it on?"

His mom laughs, the room shaking, and says, _"Remember a few minutes ago, when you asked me why I insist on recording everything?"_ Kageyama makes a small noise of agreement, unable to fully move his attention away from the camera in his hands. _"This is why."_

He furrows his brows. "So you can watch me open boxes?" Kageyama asks, completely serious.

His mom continues to laugh.

 

**butterflies**

_"Mom! There's a butterfly on your nose!"_

"Why yes, there is." Her voice is quiet in an attempt to not disturb the butterfly. Its wings flutter, but the butterfly stays put, its muted colors somehow bright next to pale skin. "Isn't it pretty?"

After a few moments, the creature flies away, flapping back and forth in the wind before moving out of sight.

Kageyama continues to ramble, undeterred by the departure. _"We got to practice a bit early today, so Ono-kun let me film him! He didn't know what to do, so I told him to talk about what he likes best, since that's what you always tell me."_ Kageyama's mom smiles softly, her expression open, and eyes attentive. _"He started acting all silly, and when I asked him why, he said he was impersonating his little sister! He said he loves her a lot, even though she acts so silly."_

His mom giggles. "That's very nice of him."

 _"When I'm older,"_ Kageyama says, _"I'm going to film my junior high team, and then my high school team."_

"And why is that?"

_"Because my volleyball team is one of the things I like best."_

Her giggle morphs into a laugh. "Do you want to invite them to your birthday this year? Instead of having just us?"

There's a pause, like Kageyama is seriously considering the question. _"Yes,"_ he says, then adds, _"We can reuse the stuff from last year!"_

"I suppose we can."

 

**untitled**

"Ah, um..." Kageyama trails off, blinking down at the bed sheets. "Mom gave me this camera a couple – a couple years ago, and I've never taken a video of myself on it before, so I don't really know what to do." He scrubs at his eyes, rimmed red. His voice is quiet and slightly raw-sounding in the seemingly empty space. The sheets on the bed look unused, and the wall behind him is a neat off-white, making everything seem grainy and still.

"Auntie took me back to her house, and, everything's, uh, really big? I just, um." Kageyama rubs at his eyes again. "It's too big. We still have to pick up all my stuff from home, and everything there was so much smaller. Like, the building we lived in was huge, but home was small. I wasn't allowed to move around the entire complex. Auntie's house is the biggest space I'll have lived and moved around in, which is cool, I guess.

"But..." he trails off with a shiver, "It feels cold, not cool. I can't figure it out. I know the heater's on, because Auntie was complaining about needing to turn it on, so I don't know what it is." Kageyama pauses, then, looking around the room, down at the bed, and his eyes eventually land somewhere to his left. The side of his cheek glistens in the light, tracing uneven tracks down his skin. "Auntie said that... Mom was driving, and that the car went _whoosh_ across some ice in the road, which made the car go _bang._ And that Mom must've hit her head real hard, because they couldn't wake her up in the hospital. Then she said that doctors try their best to wake people up, but when they can't, that means the person is gone. When I asked if Mom is coming back, Auntie got this really weird look on her face, and said she isn't.

"That made me really sad, I think. Auntie's face got all blurry. I figured out what she meant, though." Kageyama lets out a broken laugh, takes a deep breath. Another. " 'I guess we aren't getting ice cream when the weather gets warmer.' I think that's what I thought, then.

"I think... this will be my last video, at least for a while. I don't know what I'd want to record anymore.

"Um, bye? How did Mom ever get good videos of me..." Kageyama crawls forward, arm outstretched, and breathes in.

**why did we keep this**

_" – you start recording? There's so many buttons!"_

A wrapper on the clubroom floor blurs in and out of focus. The sound of squeaking sneakers mixes with the rustle of cloth as the floor rushes past, then the wall, focus settling on the shelves. They shake and go sideways; the room spins. There's a momentary glimpse of Hinata's nose. The room spins some more, and then abruptly jerks as the door slams.

"Hinata, you dumbass! Didn't anyone ever tell you not to touch other people's stuff?"

_"W-well, of course someone probably did, but – "_

"Then why did you go through my bag?" The material of Kageyama's practice sweater wrinkles with the tensing of his shoulders. Hinata makes some sort of strangled noise, as the focus briefly hops up from Kageyama's chest to his face: his eyebrows are pinched, and a scowl pulls harshly at his lips, but there is an unmistakable tint of pink to his ears and cheeks. In the background, there's the sound of feet landing on the clubroom floor.

The view of Kageyama's chest goes fuzzy. _"I guess, um, you put your bag down, less, gWEH, then usual, and more like, careful? And so I figured there was something important in there, and I was curious what could be more important to Kageyama than volleyball, because that's all I've ever seen you interested in. And then I was like, 'what could go wrong?' "_

Silence.

Then, "You went through my bag, _decided_ to go through my bag, _just because I put it down differently?_ Dumbass! What's wrong with you?"

 _"K-Kageyama."_ The creases on Kageyama's practice sweater continuously shift and move closer.

"Give me that already! Hinata, you are such a – "

 

**new camera who dis**

Kageyama looks vaguely confused as his eyes flit between his teammates, the various balloons and streamers taped to the ceiling, and the slice of cake in front of him. It's chocolate, and has barely been touched, as if he's too busy staring to actually eat it. Hinata shovels his own slice of cake into his mouth beside him while chatting to Yachi, who sits on Kageyama's other side. Yamaguchi laughs nervously next to her, eyeing something beyond the table.

Someone chuckles, out of view, then says, _"Look what I found, your highness."_ Yamaguchi stops eyeing the person behind the camera, and looks to Kageyama for a reaction.

Kageyama opens his mouth, as if to say, _Don't call me that,_ then ends up freezing as his eyes center in on something out of view. "Is that," he says instead, still looking mildly confused, "Is that a ribbon?"

"Yes!" Hinata blurts, practically bursting out of his seat. Yachi jumps back, but Kageyama simply turns his head towards the noise. "Yes, there is a ribbon, because it's a present! For you! From us! I'm not sure why we're letting Tsukishima give it to you, but we are, so here."

Yamaguchi leans forward to face Kageyama. "It's from the four of us," he clarifies, gesturing vaguely to Hinata and Yachi, and then to Tsukishima, who's behind the camera. "We were going to get something volleyball related, but Hinata mentioned what he found while going through your bag, and also, uh, _dropping_ it, so we figured this would mix things up a bit."

"Oh." Kageyama blinks, then gazes somewhere a bit to the left. His face is full of wonder, as if he hadn't even entertained this notion, hadn't considered a gift a viable possibility. "I wouldn't have thought of that. Thank you."

Kageyama starts as Hinata tackles him, both yelling incoherently, nearly covering up Tsukishima's drawn out sigh and the mumbled, _Happy birthday, I guess,_ that follows, voice sounding resigned yet fond, though Kageyama doesn't seem to notice.

 

**disaster (aka kei) strikes**

The second years shoot at the targets along the walls of the booth, colored light hitting mostly air. The fake shooting sounds are muddled by the _whoosh_ of rides, Nishinoya's screaming, and Tanaka's cackling. Ennoshita sighs, and gives up, while Kinoshita and Narita still attempt to hit at the targets.

"Why did you bring your camera?" Hinata asks, jumping in front and blocking the view of the shooting game.

 _"Suga-san asked me to,"_ Kageyama replies easily. _"He wanted to see 'disaster strike,' whatever that means. Now move, he told me to record them playing the game while he drags Sawamura-san onto the nearest large roller coaster."_

Hinata dutifully moves, despite the reluctance on his face, and turns to watch the second years continue to lose. _"They really suck,"_ Kageyama comments, matter-of-fact, as Yamaguchi nudges Tsukishima toward the booth, voice too quiet to carry.

Tsukishima reluctantly stumbles forward, guided by Yamaguchi's hand on his back. "I said no," he proclaims, voice solid, "I'm not playing." Yamaguchi opens his mouth to reply, then snickers as Tsukishima sighs dramatically, his whole body slouching with his exhale. Ennoshita hands him his gun without complaint and slides over to leave a space in front of the booth.

The other second years continue to play, even as Tsukishima steps into the empty space and raises the gun. It's when they hear the sharp _ding!_ of a hit target that they turn, eyes wide, to Tsukishima, who continues to shoot.

There are several more _dings_ before the timer beeps, signaling the end of the game - Tsukishima's win. He turns to Ennoshita, who shakes his head and waves him off. After a considering moment, he calls out, "King," and at the lack of response, turns around fully to say, "Come pick something out."

_"Huh?"_

"I couldn't care less about prizes, and Yamaguchi already won some. Ennoshita-san won't take it. Come pick something out." Tsukishima walks away, then, and back toward Yamaguchi, who has a hand over his mouth.

_"O-okay. Dumbass, take the camera. Don't drop it this time."_

"Hey!" Hinata cries, but dutifully takes the camera.

 

**bubblegum tsukki**

_"Why am I recording you guys? And with Kageyama's camera, for that matter."_

"Because, Chikara," Nishinoya explains, eyes bright, and body literally jumping, "It's our first practice as third years! We're making memories!"

There's the rustle of clothing, and an exasperated sigh, but the focus remains on Nishinoya and Tanaka. Nishinoya is already in his practice clothes, though both his shirt and shorts are wrinkled, as if he put them on in haste. He has no shoes, and the bottoms of his socks are brown from the week-old layer of dust on the floor. Tanaka is still changing, dressed from his shoes up to the waistband of his shorts. He turns around to face Ennoshita, an enthusiastic _Yeah!_ leaving his lips in agreement of whatever Nishinoya might've happened to say.

_"Then why with Kageyama's camera?"_

"Sentimental value. Besides, he agreed to me using it."

_"Really now."_

Nishinoya's face contorts, trying to grasp a new expression, but the way his body is practically vibrating and the wide smile stretched across his lips ruins the possibility. The door opens, then, and Nishinoya's face whips around to the sound. Kinoshita winces in the background.

The room swirls, focus landing on the two figures at the door. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi look relatively the same as they did in first year – same build, same posture, same trademark accessories; the break between graduation and the new school year isn't all that long – but Yamaguchi's hair is a bit longer, and Tsukishima's hair is pink.

It's just the tips of it, that are pink; light enough to be a trick of the light, and dark enough to know it's not. Yamaguchi snickers as he walks in, eyes darting around the clubroom. Tsukishima starts to change, not paying any mind to the rest of the team's disbelieving stares.

Tanaka practically jumps at Tsukishima as he shrugs off his uniform, left in his undershirt and slacks. He tilts his head, lip jutting out, and asks, "Are you sure that's you, Tsukishima?" Nishinoya's accusatory noises fail to drown out the snickers still pouring out of Yamaguchi. Tsukishima finally bothers glancing around the otherwise frozen room.

"Yes," he says, starting to slip off his undershirt. He hesitates before he even has it half way up, pulls it neatly back down over his torso, and turns his head around to look over his shoulder. "Would you stop recording me? I acknowledge your love for film and the upperclassmen's blatant pervertedness, if that one idol poster holds any truth, but isn't this a bit much?" He turns fully, hands on hips, considering. "We practice together. You see me every day, unfortunately. Why keep something like that?"

The majority of the room remains frozen, and Tsukishima raises an eyebrow at the delay. The rest of the team promptly scrambles into motion. Yamaguchi snorts at the sight.

 

**blame ennoshita-san for this**

There's the blur of too-close eyes and a nose, then Kageyama backs up, revealing the rest of the room. Other than a small photo, the wall behind the bed is bare, and painted a smooth off-white. The bed itself is neatly made, pale yellow sheets tucked tidily over it. Tsukishima sits just as neatly. Parts of his hair are plastered by rain – the parts that aren't stick up in persistent blond tufts – and his uniform is obviously wet, but he is otherwise unruffled, casually toying with the headphones around his neck. Kageyama goes to sit next to him, leaving a few large inches of space.

Tsukishima's face scrunches as he turns his head toward Kageyama, but his hands lace together in his lap when he speaks. "I don't like this."

"Being recorded, or being stuck with me?" Kageyama questions, seemingly genuine, then adds, "Because I don't like being stuck with you, either." He glares for a moment, then gazes into the space in front of him. "But I like volleyball, and with Ennoshita-senpai as captain, we have to get along. He said to make a video."

"Oh my god." Tsukishima looks ready to face-palm, but his fingers stay laced loosely together. "First of all, making a video was an offhand suggestion he made, and second, my luck must be wearing thin, because the popsicle stick I drew had your name on it. Though I suppose I knew that, already." Kageyama opens his mouth, and is cut off by a look from Tsukishima. "Regardless, we either sit and do nothing or we talk, both of which I do not want to do. Your choice."

Kageyama considers, head tilting, then with a new sort of resolution in his eyes, asks, "What's your favorite color?"

Tsukishima blinks. _"What?"_

"What's your favorite color?"

"Oh, um." Tsukishima blinks again, fingers slowly uncurling. "Purple?" He looks away. "I still don't like this."

Kageyama ignores the admission. "Now you ask me a question."

"Oh. Favorite color?"

"Blue. But you can't just ask me the same question," Kageyama points out. He waits for a response, expression neither blank nor curious, but anticipating.

Tsukishima frowns, grip tightening once more. "Fine. Favorite food?"

"Pork curry, with an egg on top. Favorite clothing item?"

"What kind of question is that? I like scarves, I guess?" Tsukishima pauses, unsure. "Favorite band?"

"I don't know."

Another pause, then, "... what? There isn't even one you _like?"_

Kageyama furrows his brow at Tsukishima's tone. "No. I don't really listen to music all that often."

"You're serious." Tsukishima completely unlaces his fingers in favor of gesturing, movements growing bigger as he speaks. "I can't believe you're serious. There are thousands of bands, and solo artists, and soundtracks, and you don't bother with any of it? Do you even own a CD player? Do you even own _headphones?"_ Tsukishima thumbs over his headphones protectively, like Kageyama's presence personally offends them. "How can you not own _headphones?_ Or ear buds, or something to channel music through. Oh wait, that's right, because you don't listen to music all that often. You probably let other people control the radio during car rides and don't even get mildly offended by their choices. You probably just let it happen, or leave the radio off, or something equally absurd."

As Tsukishima rants, loud and indignant, Kageyama watches with the ghost of a smile that he doesn't seem to realize is there. Tsukishima's voice tapers off, eventually, a wide-eyed look replacing it, and it takes a few moments for Kageyama to snap out of his staring.

"This should work," he says, and moves forward to turn off the camera, Tsukishima still sitting on the bed, hands loose.

 

**head over heels (heels over head?)**

_"Are you using Kageyama's camera for the 'sentimental value' again? Or did you just steal it?"_

_"E-Ennoshita! Didn't see you there. I'm just, uh, borrowing it. Yeah."_

_"Does Kageyama know you're borrowing it?"_

_"M-maybe. I mean, um, no, but I'm gonna give it back! And I promised myself I wouldn't break it!"_

_"Noya – "_

_"I get it, okay, but look at them! How could I not record that?"_

Four futons are lined up on the floor to create a large mat of bedding, acting as a cushion for Hinata and Kageyama, who are trying to balance on their hands. Hinata is completely upside down, but the top of his head is also on the ground, orange strands fanning wildly across the futon. Kageyama looks a bit like a question mark; his shoulders are closed, and his back curved, feet dangling from bent knees. From their spot beside them, Tsukishima snickers, and Yamaguchi covers his mouth in amusement.

Kageyama and Hinata fall at the same time, legs tangling together. They roll for a bit before Hinata springs up, pointing triumphantly at Kageyama. Kageyama leans up on his elbow, then uses his other arm to grab at Hinata's hair, dragging them both back down onto the futons.

Tsukishima doubles over in laughter. His laughter is a dramatic, wheezing thing, loud and full and unsuppressed. The other three pause to stare, Hinata and Kageyama mid-wrestle on the bedding.

 _"I've never heard Tsukishima laugh like that,"_ Nishinoya comments, quietly, and Ennoshita makes a noise of assent.

**headphones**

Blond strands tipped with purple curl up and around Tsukishima's headphones, which sit snug on his head and ears. His shoulders and head bob up and down slightly with movement, making the sun glare at odd intervals. A soft humming can be heard over the crunch of gravel.

When Tsukishima turns his head, the humming abruptly stops, and a pink tint washes over his cheeks. He reaches out a hand, blocking everything, as if he had covered the camera lens with his palm.

Somewhere in the background, Kageyama laughs, cut off by a distinctive shove and the sound of falling on gravel.

 

**fight me, bitch (actual)**

_"He's going to get beat up! Or robbed! Or murdered! Shouldn't we go help him?"_

_"No. He got himself into this mess, he's going to get himself out, whether he can or not."_

_"Isn't that a bit cold?"_

_"Shut up, Yamaguchi. For once, I agree with Kageyama. Let the shrimp handle this himself."_

Hinata stands to the right of the bathroom door, back to the others. The guy in front of him towers over Hinata – he's easily 190 cm tall - and is lean yet sturdy with muscle. His expression is more amused than threatening, like he's enjoying the scared look that's more than likely on Hinata's face. Hinata's legs tremble underneath his weight.

He raises his arms defensively, letting out a small, "Y-you wanna f-fight?" and trembling more for it. The guy's mouth upturns even more.

_"That dumbass needs a better survival mechanism. He's scared shitless."_

The guy leans down closer to Hinata's face, practically trapping him. "Sure," he says, sounding like he expects Hinata to cry, or run. For a moment, Hinata stands there completely frozen, his legs solid and motionless, and the air unyielding. Hinata's right arm twitches in the stillness.

Then he punches the guy straight in the jaw.

The guy, to his credit, only reels back slightly, remaining more or less in the same spot. The space around them is silent with surprise, and Hinata, in his panic, throws another punch, this time to the guy's cheek.

 _"Holy shit,"_ Tsukishima whispers, somewhere in the background.

The trembling returns, even worse than before. "I," Hinata squeaks out, arms pinning themselves to his sides, "I have to pee!" He promptly runs through the bathroom door, leaving the guy dumbfounded and holding the left side of his face.

 _"Holy shit,"_ Kageyama agrees, Yamaguchi and Yachi humming their assent.

 

**kei's stupid fucking reaction (emphasis on stupid)**

"Get your camera out of my fucking face."

_"I need to record your stupid fucking reaction!"_

Tsukishima steps back, tense shoulders moving into view. His face is scrunched, and his voice hard. "Reaction to _what?"_

 _"Your reaction to – "_ Kageyama hesitates, but his words are steady – _"to me saying that I fucking like you!"_

Tsukishima blinks, expression momentarily softening, before it becomes stiff with emotion. "What kind of response is that?" He steps back again, revealing hands balled into fists. "No one just _likes_ me, let alone _you._ That's not the way it fucking works."

_"What do you mean, that's not the way it fucking works? I tell you I like you, because I thought you liked me too, at least somewhat, in someway, and if you're going to reject me the least you could do is tell me – "_

"I'm not rejecting you," Tsukishima cuts in, tone deliberately flat. "I just..." His careful tone starts to break. "No one's supposed to fucking like me. I'm not..."

 _"You're not what, Tsukishima?"_ Kageyama's voice is unwavering. _"Likable? Like that matters. Everyone already knows you're a total asshole, but we're still around, aren't we? They still want to hang out with you, and play volleyball with you, and be your friend. Be thankful for that."_ Kageyama breathes before he continues. _"Then there's me, who still wants to hold your stupid fucking hand, and record all your little expressions, and confess to you, even if it's embarrassing and makes me want to scream. You don't need to be likable for me to fucking like you."_

Tsukishima's eyes are wide. His hands sit loose at his sides. "Who knew?" he says, tone mocking, but with no real heat behind it, "The genius setter Kageyama is actually a sap." Tsukishima chuckles. "I like you, but I'm not sure what to do about it. Never imagined that you would like me back. Guess that makes me a sap also."

A pause. _"I can't believe you admitted that on film."_

"Oh my god, why are you still recording?"

**kimizuki kei**

"This is stupid."

_"You're the one who agreed. Now twirl for me, Tsukki!"_

"I'm wearing pants. Why would I twirl?"

_"To see the whole outfit!"_

"I still think this is stupid."

_"You dyed your hair entirely pink for this. Your argument is invalid. Null. Ineffective."_

Tsukishima huffs, and turns in a slow circle, lazy and defeated. His outfit is some sort of black military uniform, accented with bright green. The jacket is high-collared and fits snugly over Tsukishima's torso; it flares out just barely over his hips from under a white belt, which matches the pair of belts on his right thigh. Two rows of gold buttons run down the front of his torso, and a belt from his right shoulder to the left of his waist. Heavy knee-high boots complete the military look.

When Tsukishima faces forward again, his eyes are on the ground. He raises a gloved hand to adjust his glasses, then runs it through his hair, messing it up further. "Why are you only filming me?"

_"Because people actually believe me when I say I'm cosplaying. They won't believe it when I say you are. You would think you'd be used to getting recorded, with Kageyama around."_

Tsukishima impossibly blushes, face the color of his hair. "Shut up, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi giggles, then says, _"Sorry, Tsukki. Twirl for me again?"_

"No." Tsukishima looks up, averts his eyes again. "Fine."

And he walks in another lazy circle.

**betrayal (acceptance letters, lol)**

"We'll show them all on three. One, two – "

"I still don't get why we're doing this."

Hinata's shoulders tense at the remark, fists rising slightly. A paper crinkles in his hand. "Because we said we would! We said we would keep it a secret until we all got accepted somewhere and chose where to go, then have a big reveal!" He throws his hands out, still clenched, and glares at Tsukishima from his spot on the clubroom floor.

"I don't remember that." Tsukishima keeps his voice and face carefully flat, but his eyes, wide behind his glasses, betray his amusement.

"Well, it happened." Hinata's body swivels to face left. "Yamaguchi agrees with me, right?"

"Actually," Yamaguchi responds, scratching at the back of his head, "I already told Tsukki about a week ago, and I've been talking about what I've wanted to do since second year." He tilts his head with a bashful smile directed at everyone in their makeshift circle.

Hinata points with the hand not holding the paper. "Yamaguchi!" he shrieks, while Tsukishima rubs at his ear with a small _ouch,_ "I call betrayal!"

"But didn't you call up Noya-senpai the other day screaming about how you were accepted?"

"I call betrayal on you too, Kageyama!" Hinata's whole body swivels again, this time to the right. Kageyama glares at the finger in his face.

Tsukishima huffs like he's above all this nonsense, waving his own paper in a delicate grasp. "If we're going to do this, can we at least get it over with?"

"Fine, fine." Hinata waves his hand dismissively. "On three. One, two - "

"Three!" they shout, hands shooting towards the middle of the circle, each holding a paper. Hinata's is crumpled, Kageyama's creased like he folded it to fit in his pocket, and the text is too small to read on all of them, but the university insignia on the top of each paper is clear.

Hinata's gaze flits across the papers, before settling on Tsukishima's with a gasp. "Holy shit, you're going to _Meiji?"_ Everyone turns to Tsukishima expectantly, who shies away from the attention, if only slightly. "Isn't that like, super prestigious, or something?"

"Tsukki is going to be studying law!" Yamaguchi chirps, followed by Tsukishima's _shut up, Yamaguchi._ "And it looks like Kageyama will be with him in Tokyo. That's where Nippon Sports Science University is, right?"

Kageyama's brows furrow, not with distaste, but with genuine thoughtfulness. "Yes," he says, then with more conviction, repeats. "Yes. Yeah. Tokyo." There's a sob, and when Kageyama turns left, he exclaims, "Why the fuck are you _crying?"_

"I'm just," Hinata blubbers, rubbing at his eyes, "I'm just gonna miss you guys so much! You're all going to some city or another for university, and I'll be here in Miyagi, all – "

"Yamaguchi, _you too?"_

Yamaguchi laughs despite the tears running down his face. "I can't help it, Tsukki. You and Kageyama will have each other in Tokyo, and Sendai is in Miyagi, and I'm somewhere in the middle away from all three of you."

"We're going to visit, obviously," Tsukishima states, the annoyance in his tone softened by concern. "Turn the camera off, Kageyama."

"What?"

"I said turn the goddamn camera off, Kageyama. It's yours, isn't it? Turn it off."

 

**death?**

_"Any last words, Kageyama?"_

Kageyama blinks, then narrows his eyes. "Who told you that you were allowed to use my camera? I thought we went over this, like, 3 years ago."

Hinata gasps, mock-offended. _"Harsh, Kageyama, harsh. Do you really want those to be your last words?"_

"What are you talking about?" Kageyama sounds genuinely confused. "I'm graduating, not dying. You, on the other hand – " He stares at him pointedly – "Are dead if you do something stupid with that. Which you will, probably."

Hinata _hmphs,_ then says, _"I think Tsukishima's rubbing off on you."_

"I think Tsukki has rubbed off on _both_ of you," Yamaguchi cuts in, walking up from behind Kageyama. "Tsukki-sarcasm germs are powerful, obnoxious little things."

_"Do you have any last words, Yamaguchi?"_

Yamaguchi tilts his head in thought, then in confusion. "Um, no? We're graduating, not dying."

"That's what I said!"

"Said what?" a new voice pipes in. Tsukishima walks up lazily, shoulders relaxed as he takes off his headphones and places them around his neck. "Something about graduation?"

 _"Tsukishima!"_ Hinata exclaims, and repeats, _"Any last words?"_

Tsukishima's eyes are unblinking behind his glasses. "I'm already dead inside," he says, voice deliberately flat, earning a snicker out of Yamaguchi and Kageyama both.

_"Why does everybody associate last words with dying?"_

"That's what they're for, dumbass. Are you done now?"

_"Nah, I still have to find Yachi. At least she'll be serious about it."_

Tsukishima leans down toward the other two, mumbles, "How can he be so sure?" then straightens up again as Hinata sputters indignantly.

_"You-you'll see! Yachi! Yachi, come over here!"_

 

**hinata's presentation, take one**

"Thanks for doing this, by the way," Hinata says, straightening his shirt. He's wearing a light green button-up that clashes horribly with his hair, but is obviously one of his nicer shirts. The shirt is left untucked, the sleeves rolled up awkwardly at his elbows, and his smile holds shaky nervousness, as if he is trying to beam appreciation and not quite succeeding. "I mean," he continues, "I wasn't expecting you to say _no,_ per say, but I wasn't expecting you to say yes, either. Which doesn't make much sense, I guess. You've always seemed like a 'go and do it yourself' kind of person." Hinata's voice lowers at this, as well as his expression, before reverting back to his shaky smile.

"I actually emailed Ennoshita-san before calling you, since he's studying film and can edit videos and he's not all the way in Tokyo, and he said he'd help me with the editing but someone else is gonna have to record it." Hinata is rambling, at this point, words moving faster and faster. "I started panicking, because I only had a week and a half to film my presentation and submit it, and I didn't own a camera, and so I called the one other person I knew who owned a camera, which was you, and I was so relieved when you said yes but I wondered how I would get to Tokyo or you to Miyagi and started panicking again.

"Then I remembered I had already planned a visit for this weekend, and you could film me then, and you said you didn't even think about it, which made me laugh, since that's such a Kageyama move. It stopped me form panicking more but now I'm panicking again and I feel like I'm gonna throw up even though I know I won't, because I stopped doing that partway through high school, but – "

_"Hinata."_

"Right." Hinata takes a deep breath, straightens his shirt one last time, and puts on a steady smile. "I'm ready."

 _"Hinata,"_ Kageyama repeats flatly, _"I was already recording."_

"Well then." His expression doesn't waver.

 

**christmas eve at hinata's**

"Is it fixed yet?"

"Yeah," Kageyama answers, carefully stepping backwards. "Everyone's in the shot."

He goes to sit on the floor between Hinata and Tsukishima, all three clad in sweaters. Yamaguchi lounges next to them in a comfy sweatshirt. There's a Christmas tree in the corner of the room, excessively decorated by an assortment of oddly shaped ornaments, and lined by sparkly garlands and colorful lights. On the floor in front of them sits four presents, some more neatly wrapped than others.

Hinata picks up one of the presents and reads the tag. "This one's yours, Yamaguchi," he says, looking up, then passes the box to him.

"Isn't it a bit redundant to have a secret Santa with four people? You can tell who got the gift just by looking at it."

"So stingy! Stingy-shima!" Hinata counters, "If it's so easy to tell, then which gift did I buy?"

Tsukishima lazily points at the present Yamaguchi's unwrapping. "That one, obviously. We all know you can't wrap things for shit. And that you probably use an entire tape roll."

Hinata smirks. "Wrong! That's not – " He cuts himself off, blinking – "Okay so maybe that _is_ the gift I bought."

"How do you forget which gift you bought?" Yamaguchi asks with a snicker. "Thanks, by the way. Guess you remembered me saying I don't own any winter sweaters." In his hands is a blue knit sweater with a large snowflake printed in the center. "I'll wear it tomorrow."

Hinata smiles, then picks up another gift to read the tag. His eyes light up as he starts to unwrap it. "Uwoh! It's that anime I wanted to watch! Thanks, uh..." He furrows his eyebrows for a moment. "Tsukishima?"

"You're welcome." Tsukishima picks up a box and glances at the tag. "It's yours," he says, handing it to Kageyama.

"Oh." He takes off the wrapping paper with a surprising amount of care, opening the box and setting it neatly to the side. The shirt he takes out reads _I'd hit that,_ with a volleyball drawn under it. That pulls a laugh out of Hinata, and when Kageyama comments, "I don't get it," he's loudly joined by the other two. Kageyama looks even more confused when he thanks Yamaguchi, who stops just long enough to nod back.

Their laughter fades but doesn't stop, leaving a small smile on Tsukishima's face as he picks up the last present and unwraps it. Whatever he sees makes him blink, expression open. Then Kageyama says, "I found a band I like," and Tsukishima _grins,_ quickly moving to cover his mouth with his hand.

"Oh my god," Tsukishima blurts, words muffled by his hand, "You have such bad music taste." He chuckles as he says it, eyes filled with mirth.

Kageyama lets out a laugh of his own. "I think," he says, to no one in particular, "This is why I insist on recording everything."

"So you can watch me open boxes?" Tsukishima asks, still muffled.

Another laugh. "I guess so."

 

**darkness and light**

"I've gotten used to you with a camera in your hands, but I still have to ask; why are you recording me?" Tsukishima turns his head and leans forward, resting his forearms on the cafe table. His hair is a myriad of pastels; the colors look barely there in the light from the window, and his roots more white than blond.

Kageyama hesitates in his response. _"A project. For school."_ His voice is matter-of-fact in a way that makes Tsukishima tilt his head until he's practically hunching over the table.

"Aren't you studying sports medicine?"

Another pause. _"Yes."_ Tsukishima continues to stare. _"Okay so maybe it isn't a project for school. But it was Yamaguchi who convinced me to enter the contest and he's your best friend so it's actually your fault, Tsukishima."_

"Really now?" Tsukishima lilts, leaning away from the table until his posture isn't so back-breaking. "In that case, why are you recording _me?"_

 _"Um."_ Kageyama clears his throat as Tsukishima taps his fingers expectantly. _"When I was told the theme was 'darkness and light', I thought of you."_

Tsukishima inhales sharply. "What?"

_"Well, 'the moon' only ever sees darkness, but a 'firefly' makes its own light."_

"That makes no sense."

 _"It made sense in my head."_ At Kageyama's words, Tsukishima stops tapping his fingers, instead lacing them together on the table. _"I thought it described you well. And it fit the theme."_

He grips his fingers tighter. "Is that," he starts, blinking down at his hands, "Is that how you see me? A firefly?"

_"When you're not being a total asshole like usual."_

"I'm not the one who likes me." Tsukishima looks up and away from his whitening knuckles. "What?"

 _"Nothing, just."_ Kageyama audibly fumbles for words. _"Nothing."_

 

**strawberry shortcake**

For a moment, Tsukishima freezes, fork halfway between his mouth and the plate. He finishes the movement and swallows awkwardly. "What?" he questions, tone tight and irritated.

 _"Your eyes light up whenever there's strawberry shortcake in front of you,"_ Kageyama supplies easily, like it's a well-known fact.

Tsukishima turns his face away, eyes averted, though it does nothing to hide the blush on top of his cheeks. "Shut up," he mumbles, and then, "How can you just say things like that?"

 _"What do you mean?"_ Kageyama sounds truly confused, but answers anyway. _"Because it's true."_

Tsukishima petulantly takes another bite. His blush doesn't fade.

 

**yamaguchi's fault**

Kageyama walks onto the dimly lit stage and takes a spot next to the projector screen. Another person bows, and gives Kageyama the microphone and an encouraging pat on the back as he walks off. Kageyama takes a breath, tries to smile, then seems to decide against it, instead leaving his expression neutral.

 _"He looks so awkward,"_ Hinata whispers, _"I hope he never has to dress nice again, for his sake."_

_"I think he looks fine. Maybe a bit nervous, for once, but fine."_

_"Shut up, both of you."_

_"Harsh, Tsukki."_

"Hi," Kageyama starts, after another breath, "My video is called 'Moonrise.' It was inspired by a... friend. I'd like to thank Ennoshita-san, for his editing knowledge, Yamaguchi for convincing me to enter the contest, Hinata for recording me now, and Yachi for her support, even though she couldn't make it this evening. A separate thanks for Tsukishima, for not punching me in the face whenever I recorded, even though he probably wanted to. Please enjoy."

The lights dim fully. There's a moment of complete darkness before the projector screen glows white and a voice says, _I'm not the one who likes me._ Hands, laced together tightly, then the dull of an empty gym. The next few shots are blank and boring, nothing more than vacant rooms or slow streets.

And then there's laughter over crumpled futons, and unbridled stares, and _I've never heard Tsukishima –_ And then there's blond hair tipped purple, curling over headphones, the hum of a song on Tsukishima's lips, and it melts into the next moment, and the next – a surprise visit here, a strawberry shortcake there – until he and Kageyama are at the cafe again, barely-there pastels in the window, _I'm not the one who likes me_ and _nothing._

Then the video ends.

There's applause as Kageyama bows, loose and appreciative. _"Wow,"_ Hinata says, still in a whisper.

 _"Wow,"_ Tsukishima can't help but agree.

 

**dorm visit**

Three knocks on a closed door before it opens, revealing a sweater-clad Tsukishima. His eyebrows scrunch in what could be annoyance, yet when he steps back inside the room, he leaves the door ajar.

Tsukishima's dorm room is small, especially with two beds, two desks, and two armoires packed into it. He moves to sit on the leftmost bed, elbows on his knees. His hair is platinum blond. "I thought the contest was long and done with. What's with the surprise visit?" Tsukishima tilts his head, questioning.

 _"It is,"_ Kageyama confirms instead of actually answering.

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow, then lifts his arm in a lazy mimic of taking a video. "People will start thinking you super-glued that camera to your hand." A pause. "You didn't, did you?"

Kageyama laughs, open yet unseen. _"No. Can't I visit without you questioning me?"_

"When you're not obviously recording me."

 _"Isn't that a lot of the time?"_ Kageyama asks, oddly serious.

"Guess so." Tsukishima laces his fingers together. "But seriously, why?"

_"I like recording you."_

Tsukishima's face glows pink. "That's not what I – whatever, I don't care."

_"... You're pouting."_

"Am not!"

 

**kei's (admittedly boring) presentation**

_"How do you give a serious presentation,"_ Kageyama wonders, voice forcibly quiet, _"When your hair is colored like the middle of a campfire?"_

_"I mean, Hinata tries his best – "_

_"Hey!"_

_" – and there are people with that strawberry blond, redhead thing going on, who give perfectly fine presentations. I think that's what Tsukki was going for, but messed up a bit, which would explain the blond highlights."_

_"That makes sense, actually. And since when did Hinata give serious presentations?"_

_"Like I said, he tries his best."_

_"I. Can. Hear you."_

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Tsukishima Kei." His tone starts out deliberately bored, like talking takes nothing more than words, but his fingers tap irregularly against his thigh when he does so. "This past semester I worked with – " Tsukishima drones on, voice becoming careful and clear. He sometimes gestures at the screen behind him, though he otherwise stays in place. A timer beeps after five minutes, Tsukishima's presentation continuing just barely past the mark. "Thank you," he ends, flatly, then walks off the makeshift stage, moving closer. The small crowd stands with him, students and faculty making their way out of the room. Kageyama stands up to meet him halfway.

"Nice job," he states easily, as Tsukishima rolls up his sleeves.

Tsukishima turns his head down and away. "Not really," he mumbles, then adds, "It was just a dress rehearsal, anyway. Too bad we couldn't leave early. My presentation just had to be put dead last."

 _"That's fine, Tsukki,"_ Yamaguchi calls from somewhere behind them, _"We'll make sure to pay lots of attention at the real thing. Yachi will be here by then, too."_

"Because that makes me feel so much better." He sounds sarcastic at best, and bitter at worst, though he does look better than before; his shoulders are looser, hidden tension melted away, and his tight expression softer. His hands are still at his sides.

Kageyama breathes out through his nose, and tilts his head in a way that says, _it did, didn't it,_ but elects to keep his mouth shut.

 

**our (cardboard) apartment**

"Welcome to our inhabitance!" Tsukishima throws his arms out dramatically as if to embrace all the boxes lying around him, disposable cup in hand. He's in pajamas – a ratty t-shirt, flannel pants, and thin socks – and there are clearly bags under his eyes, but there is also a smirk on his lips, full and bright like a smile. "The place where we will sleep and eat meals and talk shit in the moonlight, and live out our last year of university and beyond. You know, assuming Kageyama graduates at all." Kageyama splutters out a _hey!_ backed by enough laughter to know he isn't really offended. Tsukishima's smirk impossibly widens as he brings his arms back in, then melts away so he can take a sip from his cup.

"This is supposed to be our living room," Tsukishima continues as he walks toward a flat array of boxes, shaped into a sloppy rectangle. "Here is our coffee table. Top of the line cardboard." Kageyama snorts and follows Tsukishima as he walks, the hardwood floors changing to tile. "We have now entered the kitchen. Lo and behold the rice cooker, one of the only two things we've unpacked, other than the camera. The camera doesn't count as unpacking when it's practically an extension of Kageyama's arm. When he isn't playing volleyball, at least."

Tsukishima turns out of the kitchen and down the hall, which is lined with more boxes and a few plastic bins. "I insisted on finding the coffee maker, but apparently it was late and would be too much of a struggle to find it, so instead of waking up to the smell of coffee, or the incentive of making it myself, I woke up to this idiot I call a boyfriend knocking on the apartment door, because he went out to buy coffee for me and forgot his keys." He opens the door to the next room, turning around as he does so. "Thanks, by the way.

"Anyway, the bedroom. See the bed? Second of the two things we unpacked. We acted like complete deadweights after dragging it in here." Kageyama snickers as Tsukishima flops down on the bed, putting his cup on the floor beside it. "I would show you the bathroom, but the lighting's shit, and I want to sleep. Kageyama, come sleep."

Kageyama snickers again, the focus landing on him as he goes to sit on the bed. With a mumble of, _why do we own so much stuff,_ Tsukishima slumps against Kageyama, and Kageyama lets him.

 

**couch sitting**

_"Shhh! I don't want to wake them!"_

_"You're awfully loud for someone who doesn't want to wake people up."_

_"And you're just plain awful, Yamaguchi! Who corrupted you? You know, besides Tsukishima."_

_"Who says I'm corrupted?"_

_"I do!"_

_"Shhh! But why a video, anyway? Can't you just take a picture? Isn't that what people usually do?"_

_"I could, but it's been like a year since they've gotten this apartment, and the one time – "_

_"Fourth time."_

_" – they invite us over, they're asleep on the couch!"_

_"That's not actually a reason, but okay."_

On the couch, Kageyama shifts in his sleep, leaning more into Tsukishima's shoulder until he's practically sideways. Tsukishima stays upright, tilting just enough toward Kageyama to not fall over the arm of the couch. Hinata coos at the sight.

Kageyama shifts again, and Tsukishima starts to blink his eyes open. He squints against the light, glasses missing from his face, then closes them again as he mumbles, "I think we left the door unlocked."

"Mm," Kageyama agrees, miraculously half-awake. He stops shifting around, supposedly comfortable.

"And fell asleep on the couch."

He tiredly nods his head in response.

_"...Should we make them coffee?"_

_"I don't think they trust you with the coffee maker."_

_"C'mon! That was – "_

_"Hinata."_

_"You make it, then."_

"You two," Tsukishima interrupts tiredly, "Shut up."

 

**fight me, bitch (surprise)**

_"Surpri – holy shit."_

Tsukishima closes the front door behind him as he toes off his shoes, holding his glasses in one hand. The skin around his left eye is dark and swollen. His nose is red from cold, his upper lip red from crusted blood, and unwinding his scarf reveals more blood on his chin and bruises along his neck.

 _"Holy shit,"_ Kageyama repeats as Tsukishima shrugs off his jacket. There's a soft thump, and the blur of couch cushions. Footsteps sound, getting quieter. _"Holy shit."_ Kageyama's voice sounds frantic and farther away. _"What happened to you?"_

Tsukishima chuckles, also sounding far off. _"Different opinions. Employee input. I guess I'm not the most likeable person. "_

_"Not. What I. Meant."_

_"And don't I know it."_

Two sets of footsteps grow closer, followed by a plop, shaking the blur of the cushions. _"Stay."_ There's the sound of a cabinet opening, and the shift of bottles and boxes. The cabinet closes, and more footsteps precede the knock of knees on hardwood. It's nearly silent, for a few moments, only interrupted by the opening off bottles and the snap of caps.

Another one of Tsukishima's chuckles breaks the silence completely. _"Trying to take my clothes off, are we now? I thought we reached the point where you can ask, but I guess you're just desperate."_

_"Shut up and take your shirt off. I want to see your arms."_

There's a sharp hiss under the rustle of clothing, and for a second, there is actual silence. Then, _"You should probably ice that."_ Kageyama's voice is shaky and quiet and a more than a little alarmed. Tsukishima only chuckles again at the tone.

 _"Maybe later, it was freezing enough outside. Besides, you were shouting 'surprise' earlier, weren't you? What's the surprise?"_ The flash of a pale hand, and suddenly the focus is on Kageyama, on his knees and looking sick. _"Show me."_

Kageyama robotically gets up, hands shaking to make up for his voice, which remains steady as he asks, "Why are you recording?"

_"You wanted to record my surprised face. Now you get to record both of ours."_

"Shut up." Kageyama makes his way to the kitchen. A cake sits on the table, with strawberries lining the edges, and a large red _Yay!_ written in icing on the top. "It was to celebrate you getting promoted at work. Though it seems your, uh, co-workers, I guess, already had something planned. Um." He shifts from foot to foot, suddenly bashful, even if his hands are still shaking. "I was going to write 'Congratulations', but I didn't know how to spell it."

Tsukishima full-belly _laughs,_ at that, the view of the kitchen shaking with the force of it. The focus spins and settles and Tsukishima clutching his stomach, hissing in pain in between laughs and stolen breath. His forearms are bruised as if someone clutched them harshly, and practically his whole right side is black and blue lined with ugly yellow, like he was repeatedly slammed into a desk, or the doorframe.

"You look surprised," Tsukishima says, still laughing and wincing in equal measures. And despite the rest of his appearance – his bandaged face, his damaged torso, his bruised wrists – he looks _happy,_ smile so wide it must ache. He reaches out, then, and the room spins again, stopping on a slack Kageyama. _"See? Surprised."_

Kageyama's eyes are bright, and his hands sit still at his sides.

 

**sleeping in**

"Tsukishima." Kageyama reaches out an arm to shake Tsukishima's shoulder. Tsukishima grumbles sleepily. "Tsukishima, wake up. Tsukishima."

Tsukishima rolls over slightly, more of his face pressing into the pillow. "No," he murmurs, "I don't want to."

Kageyama doesn't roll his eyes, but looks like he wants to. "You're already awake. Get up."

"Why should I? I don't want to."

"Just like a kid," Kageyama mumbles under his breath, then says, "It's your birthday. Get up."

Tsukishima rolls in the other direction, this time to frown at Kageyama, though it comes out more like a pout than anything. "Isn't that just more reason I _shouldn't_ have to get up? It's my birthday, I can sleep through it if I want to."

"Usually it would mean that, but it's past noon. Yamaguchi's coming over, and Hinata expects a Skype call. You know how Hinata is about Skype calls."

"They've seen me sleep before," Tsukishima argues. "Besides, that's not until, like, five. I have time."

Kageyama reaches out his hand again to tug on Tsukishima's hair, seemingly in an attempt to annoy him. The ghost of a smile on his face ruins the effect. "What if _I_ want to celebrate your birthday?"

"Then go back to bed and sleep. Have cake tomorrow. Problem solved."

Kageyama continues speaking as if he didn't hear him. "I was wondering," he says, absently, "How is your hair so soft even though you dye it so much? Shouldn't it be not-soft by now?"

"Lots of conditioner? What do you mean by 'not-soft'? It's too early for this."

"It's past noon."

"Nope. Too early. Sleep time."

Kageyama sighs, defeated. "Again, it's past noon. On your birthday. It's get-up-there's-coffee time." He himself doesn't sound very convinced.

"Try again during service hours."

Kageyama sighs again.

 

**FINALLY – kei, on this day**

"What the fuck? I look like an anime character. Or a punk."

"You know, I worked hard on that. Stop tugging."

Kageyama obeys, lowering his hands to the bathroom sink. The whole of the counter is covered in towels, stained various shades of blue. Kageyama stares holes into the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. Tsukishima can be seen in the glass, holding a camera to the left of his face, watching Kageyama make aborted hand gestures toward his hair before lowering his hands again. Kageyama pouts while Tsukishima snickers at him.

"For the record," Tsukishima starts, then pauses as the room blurs, focus landing back on Kageyama and Tsukishima, whose backs are to the mirror. Tsukishima's arm is outstretched to hold the camera. "I think you look good. _And_ I chose a dark enough color that we didn't need bleach, _and_ I could dilute it to use on myself." Tsukishima runs a hand over the top of his hair, dyed a light, icy blue, then through Kageyama's longer locks, streaked with a darker shade. It doesn't look like it was dyed at all, but as the strands move through Tsukishima's fingers, the bathroom light catches on the blue highlights. "Aren't you proud that I did something right for once?"

Kageyama blinks at the statement, seeming contemplative, or perhaps concerned. He physically shakes off the expression, says, "Sure," and turns back to mirror to continue tugging on his hair.

"I said stop that," Tsukishima snaps over his shoulder, but without real heat. He runs his hand over his hair again, across the length of his scalp. "This is my new favorite color."

"You say that about every color." Kageyama glances down at the towels with a deepening frown. "Also, this is a waste of towels."

"Why do you think we buy such cheap towels?"

Kageyama looks like he's actually trying to formulate an answer, and Tsukishima laughs at him. Kageyama's expression melts into something resigned yet fond, though Tsukishima doesn't seem to notice.

 

**in sickness and in health**

_"Let's get a cat."_

Tsukishima pushes up his glasses, but doesn't take his eyes off his book. "No, Kageyama," he says, turning the page, "I'm allergic to cats. Stop trying to make suggestions when you're sick."

_"Then we should get a dog."_

"No, Kageyama."

_"Why not?"_

"Because _you're_ allergic to dogs."

A pause. Tsukishima continues to scan over his book. _"A fish?"_

"Still no." Tsukishima finally turns his head, eyes hard behind his glasses. "If you suggest any other pets, I will buy a snake for you to sleep with."

Kageyama's voice seems to deflate. _"Sorry,"_ he mumbles, and Tsukishima's expression softens at the sound of it.

"How about this," he says after a moment of silence, "We'll get some plants to put in the windowsill, or something. You can pick them out when you're _not_ running a fever. Sound good?"

_"I still want a cat."_

"I'm allergic to cats." Tsukishima stands, putting his book on the table. "I'm getting you another wet cloth."

_"Then a dog."_

"You're allergic to dogs!" Tsukishima calls from somewhere in the apartment, a smile in his voice.

 

**plants**

Three potted plants sit on the one end of the kitchen counter, in line with a beam of sunlight. Tsukishima hums as he waters them, towel around his neck, his still-damp hair dripping onto it. He moves neatly from plant to plant, and empties the plastic water bottle he's holding.

When he turns around, there's a brief look of surprise on his face – eyes wide, lips parted – that is soon replaced by a smirk, the sideways tilt of his mouth oddly fond. "I thought you were going to go take a shower," he says, tone open and sleepy.

 _"So did I,"_ Kageyama replies, and Tsukishima chuckles. _"But you were watering the plants."_

"That's such a shit explanation that I can't even comment." Tsukishima pivots, then walks to the sink, and refills the plastic bottle. As the tap runs, he tells him, "I need to water the ones on the coffee table. Now go take a shower." He turns off the sink, and looks over his shoulder expectantly. "Well?"

 _"Right."_ Kageyama pauses. Then he adds, _"I like when you hum to music."_

And Tsukishima blushes pink.

 

**tobio's beach birthday**

The beach looks pink and orange in the fading light, and the ocean a far-off mass, moving closer. Four figures come into view; one hopping around, two sitting in the sand, and one standing, staring at the water. Yamaguchi waves around Yachi from his spot in the sand, catching the attention of the bouncing Hinata. The sudden stillness has Kageyama turning.

He freezes. The ocean rumbles behind him. "So that's why you went to the car," he states, eyes seeming to glow as they widen.

 _"Did you really think I forgot something,"_ Tsukishima says, voice deliberately flat, _"And didn't bother getting it until now?"_ Smoothly his tone changes to something more playful, something tinged pink and orange and blue. _"Here I was, thinking you knew me. But now I know that no one knows me like I do. I'm so misunderstood. If only someone could catch me as I fall into the pits of despair, but there is no one but myself."_

"You haven't been that dramatic in ages, Tsukki." Yamaguchi doesn't bother looking up, sock-clad toes buried in the sand. His jacket flaps in the breeze. "Very unexpected."

_"Well it usually isn't this fucking cold."_

"It's warm for December!"

Tsukishima scoffs, and Yachi giggles, Hinata promptly joining her. Kageyama stares like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. _"You know,"_ Tsukishima tells him, the four figures moving closer without moving at all, _"I'm pretty sure giving you a camera has become a thing, at this point, so you can stop looking so surprised."_

Kageyama runs forward, then, gloved hands briefly taking up the entire frame before showing Tsukishima, arms raised next to his face. He adjusts his scarf before stuffing his hands in his pockets, shoulders scrunching up with the movement. _"Say something!"_ Kageyama yells. Tsukishima's eyes narrow at the command, expression screaming annoyance, but after a moment his shoulders relax, and his eyes crinkle instead with the ghost of a smile. He looks oddly comfortable under the scrutiny of the camera and whatever – whoever – is beyond it.

Tsukishima opens his mouth, mumbles, "Happy birthday, I guess," voice sounding resigned yet fond, and even over the rumble of the ocean, Kageyama still manages to catch it.

 _"Yeah,"_ he replies, matching Tsukishima's quiet tone. Tsukishima grins and reaches out, the focus shifting back to Kageyama.

 _"Not even a 'thank you'?"_ Tsukishima asks, teasingly. Hinata tackles Kageyama to the ground before he can reply, Yamaguchi and Yachi snickering some feet away.

There's a sudden, blinding laughter that paints the breeze pink and orange and blue.

 

**Author's Note:**

> another big thanks to asher and taime!!
> 
> (and yet another for asher for last minute editing)


End file.
